


Another Chance

by orphan_account



Category: Wilbur Soot - Fandom
Genre: 1980, Gen, Post-Apocalypse, Science Fiction, Time Travel, Wilbur Soot - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22229908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Earth just exploded. To try and bring the human race back into existence after its mistakes, an unknown entity or "God" decides to pick a random human to rewrite history since the 1980s. That human happens to be Wilbur Soot.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	1. Another Chance

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how frequently I'll update this. I'm thinking a chapter every one or two weeks? I'm hoping to keep this going because I have a bunch of ideas, but knowing how easily I give up and get bored this might not last very long.

The Earth blew up. That’s it, it’s all gone. All these lives, these people, the history and culture they'd built over millenniums... They managed to end it all, just like that, even with my consistent help over the past years. It was bound to happen for a while now. I was basically waiting for them to find another stupid way of bringing money into a life or death situation, only for it to end in the annihilation of their own kind. They’ve finally found one! I guess that’s what makes them special. Not many civilisations can say they’ve done it. But the blame isn’t all on them. I also kind of messed up.

These past few decades have been, let's say, a fucking mess for them. I didn't even intervene during the 20th century, I let the two world wars slide. They were making so much progress, inventing revolutionary technology and getting insight into the cosmic realm for the first time! They were finally starting to reach their celestial goal, I couldn't just stop them like that. I never thought I would have needed to do anything. I thought they had figured it out on their own after the Cold War. Alas, they seem to be more stupid than I anticipated. But this... This is too much. I have made my decision: a randomly chosen human will rewrite history. I will start over from sequence number 21 3 14 16 6 19 22 17 24 12 12 3 3 14 13 16 12 24 2 9 10 23, which would make it the 1st of January 1980 in their human time; 40 years should be enough. I’ll give them another go at it, another chance. Maybe they'll pay more attention to the environment and not let it go to shit so fast this time. Let's see…

"William Gold" ?

Eh, that’ll do.

Right, where is our man of the day… There he is! Now let’s look into your info chart shall we—oh dear. It’s another one of those… the "Youtuber" people. I always seem to pick the worse ones for these types of things, don’t I. Oh, but the man plays the guitar as well. A musician, then. At least one redeemable quality. Why am I even wasting time talking to you like you can hear me? Let’s see how you spent final moments, a few hours ago. Ah. Not very interesting, by the looks of things. Sat there in front of your computer, editing some… video—what is that—"You Laugh You Lose"? I really didn’t pick the brightest one at all.

Well, I guess it’s time for you to go now. Off you go—wait, what was his name again… William!  
Good luck Will, make them proud. You are their only hope. Don’t fuck it up.


	2. Wake up, it's the 1980s

Wake up.  
Wake up.  
WAKE UP!

Is that a dog? Dogs don’t bark like that, do they?  
When was the last time I heard a dog? Or even saw a dog? Wait, what does a dog look like…  
Fuck. It feels like I took the longest nap ever.  
What time is it? God, my head hurts… Am I awake?  
It’s so dark. Are my eyes closed or have I gone blind?  
Didn’t something happen, like, a while ago?  
I swear I remember something... Something big, I was so frighte—

“Oi! Wake up you lazy bum!”

My whole body jerks me awake from my deep slumber, and my eyes open at last. I suddenly find myself in a bar, sitting at a counter. My arms feel heavy, looking like they were thrown onto the counter for me to clean up. I’m wearing an apron, and there's a blue and white towel pathetically resting on my lap. So I am in fact the one cleaning up, it seems. My eyes gradually make their way up to the man glaring at me. He must be around 40, say 50, years old. His grubby face probably doesn’t know what "hygiene" means. Where on earth am I? I must be dreaming still, surely.  
“Go on! Don’t just stay there, get to work you useless fag’!” he spits out, grabbing the towel and throwing it in my face. Rude. Did he just use that word in 20—1980. Why "2020"?

“You bloody kids, you’re all a bunch of never-do-wells! I’m not paying you minimum wage for this shit!”  
“I'm sorry! Sorry, so sorry, uh... Sir?” he walks away while I'm talking, as if none of what I said reached him, and goes through an off-white door on the right, leading to what looks like a kitchen. I watch it swing back and forth a few times, while my brain tries to understand why I’m here.  
And then it all clicks.

Out of nowhere, my brain surges me with information, memories, people, my day-to-day life... Everything makes sense again. Except for the fact that I chose to work minimum wage at the local Wetherspoon, apparently.

I’m so stupid, I work here now. That’s my boss I just saw, he’s a prick. Oh, and I need to pop into Sainsbury's before it closes and make it back home in 10 minutes. Right, let's get this shit over with.  
I get on with my work and started cleaning all the tables in the room. While I was mindlessly moping the greasy surfaces back and forth, I kept going back to that "nap". Why was I so confused? I haven’t been drinking. And "2020"? Damn, that must have been an intense dream I had. Can’t remember any of it. Well actual, I remember that fright, the vibrations… I was scared at some point, I think. Did I die, or was I preparing to?

“Lights on? Nobody home?” I interrupt the overlapping thoughts taking up all my brain, turning to the voice. It’s a young girl I've never—oh, that's Lydia.  
“I get it, alright, you went partying until some ungodly hour in the morning like we all did” She sounds pissed. Probably because I’m supposedly wasted and came to work anyway. Oh no, is that why I'm having some sort of pseudo amnesia? Will, you dumb bitch.  
“You should have known you had a shift today instead of being a lazy slob and turning up only to drool on the counter while I do all the fucking dishes!” oh God, what did I do.  
“A party?” I pause for a few seconds, “Did I go to a party?” I had no idea what she was on about. I enjoy hanging out with friends once in a while, but I don't recognise myself in what she's describing. Surely I wouldn't do that, right? She must have the wrong person, surely.  
“Are you serious right now?" she snapped. I was starting to get scared. I was just meeting her, but not really. Yet I knew her, but I didn't. What is going on?  
“You must have been drinking even more than I thought for you to be asking me that” she looked shocked, but mostly pissed. I probably looked just as. “New Year’s Eve, Will? You know, when the year changes and everybody loses their shit at midnight?” she continued.  
I suddenly realised I didn't even know what day it was until just now.  
“I'm so sorry, but I think I need to go” I blurted out. I need to get home, this is getting too much.

What the fuck did I do to end up not remembering half of my life? Maybe I was an idiot last night and decided to replace fifty percent of my brain capacity with alcohol for some stupid reason.  
Lydia's eyes follow me. She remains still, holding my towel in one hand, and stares in utter disbelief as I clumsily wriggle my way out between the chairs and stools. I hear her mutter something angrily behind me and walk back to the kitchen. When I finally reach the pub's entrance, this awkwardly mixed feeling of anxiety and dread washes over me. I can't be scared of what's out there, I know this street. I push the door and step out.

It's raining pretty hard, my hair is blown in every direction, I can't see anything and the wind is drying my eyes out. I instantly turn my back to the strong gust of wind, throwing on my hoodie. It's like I forgot I lived in England. I grab my hoodie by the strings and turn back to the street.  
I let the cold water droplets drip down my face, as I look out onto the alley dotted with shops. Despite the variety of things you could acquire and the things you could do, the street was dead silent. It looked like I could have been the only man alive in the vicinity.

I was outside for what felt like the first time in a while.  
I don't know what I was expecting back inside; it looks just like it always has. A few grey brick buildings here and there, some illuminated bow-windows displaying all sorts of things they want you to buy.

I walk away from the Wetherspoons and start making my way to Sainsbury's.

Let's go home.


End file.
